


under my protection

by determination



Category: The Chronicles of Chrestomanci - Diana Wynne Jones
Genre: Gen, the barest hint of christopher/conrad if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:15:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27180277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/determination/pseuds/determination
Summary: Who would do such a thing? What sort of horrid, awful, despicable, abhorrent person would put death spells on a child?
Relationships: Christopher Chant & Conrad Tesdinic
Kudos: 12





	under my protection

**Author's Note:**

> i was thinking about how christopher mentions that conrad had been covered in spells when they first met, and how he says he took them all off of conrad. comparing what christopher says "one of them may have been a death spell" to what conrad's uncle says "i sent you up there with death spells all over you" made me think that christopher deliberately downplayed the situation maybe to try to keep conrad from freaking out?   
> so here's something small that takes place during the walk up to stallery. christopher does not take kindly to someone who would put death spells on a child :)

Christopher stared. He stared harder. He narrowed his eyes, furrowed his brows, frowned, and practically glowered. Then, when Grant turned round to peer at him, he quickly snapped back to a casual grin. And then Grant looked away, and he went back to staring.

This wasn’t right. No, it was really quite wrong. What an awful mess of spells. Whichever way he twisted his head, the strands of the spells shimmered like a spider’s web catching sunlight, so many that they obscured each other. The outermost, quite strong, was obviously designed to make Grant desirable. Whoever had put the spell on him evidently wanted him to get this job at Stallery, whatever the job was. Christopher let out an almost imperceptible sigh and reached out, carefully taking the spell between his thumb and forefinger and tearing it. It fluttered and slipped off of Grant as if Christopher were plucking a loose string from the smaller boy’s shirt. There were a few more spells to make Grant appealing, to make his clothes look nicer, to help him speak with confidence. Christopher grinned and shook his head as he tore those spells.  _ Sorry, Grant _ , he thought unapologetically,  _ this job is mine _ .

But the next spell stopped him. His smile vanished. This one was quite a bit more complicated. It was… Christopher strained a bit, trying to read the lines of it. A knowledge spell. It reminded him of Flavian’s lesson about how you could impart information to someone via magic, such as helping them recognize someone they had never met. In fact, the more Christopher scrutinized the spell, the more it became clear that this was exactly what the spell was designed to do. Undoubtedly, the spell’s caster intended for Grant to find someone at Stallery. 

Christopher hesitated in removing that spell. There was no knowing the reason for it. The intent would only be clear to the spell caster, and perhaps Grant, had the caster told him its purpose. But Christopher didn’t think Grant knew. For one, he hadn’t reacted in the slightest to Christopher removing the spells covering him, which meant his awareness of magic was limited at best. It was likely he didn’t even know they were there. Christopher got the sense that whoever had put the spells on Grant hadn’t wanted him to know. Which made the knowledge suspect, and therefore terminable. 

With a quick, decisive movement, Christopher broke the spell. It was like clearing a fog, which put the rest of the spells into vivid focus. Christopher’s eyes involuntarily widened with shock, and he nearly stopped walking, so taken aback by the view he now had.

_ Good Lord _ , he thought gravely. 

The rest of the spells, as far as he could tell, were various death spells. Christopher didn’t have the heart to decipher them all, not with the way his stomach had dropped. There was one for bad luck, as well, which was just the icing on top of the cake. His chest tightened, rage boiling under his skin. 

Who would do such a thing? What sort of horrid, awful, despicable, abhorrent person would put  _ death _ spells on a child? There was no excuse, no possible explanation that could make sense of this situation. 

Grant- no,  _ Conrad _ was a  _ child _ . He couldn’t have been older than thirteen. His countenance was gentle, uncertain, as if he didn’t want to be there but hadn’t had a choice in the matter. He was resigned to this. Was he forced to come to Stallery? Perhaps by the very person who coated him in those wretched spells? 

Christopher found himself almost if not as angry as he’d been when Gabriel refused to help Millie. He may have only just met Conrad, but he knew without question that this boy did not deserve such a horrendous concoction of misfortune. Christopher reached out, grabbed the remainder of the spells in his fist, and gave a furious yank. Each one came undone like the strings of an instrument snapping, the ends popping and fraying with the force of his conviction.

This finally seemed to be enough of a jolt that Conrad noticed and jumped a bit. He looked around curiously, unsure what he’d just felt, before seeming to decide he’d imagined it.

Only, now that Conrad was spell-free, Christopher had a startling thought. Suppose Stallery only picked one person for the job, whatever it was. Suppose they picked Christopher, as he had planned. Would Conrad be sent home, then? And suppose the detestable spell caster was someone close to him, perhaps a family member. If this person had no qualms in smothering him in death spells, it wasn’t farfetched to think they might do worse if Conrad were to show his face there having failed to secure the job. 

Guilt. That was the feeling that had begun gnawing at Christopher. Obviously he needed this job if he were to stand a chance of finding Millie. But he couldn’t in good conscience send Conrad back to such potential danger.

The more he thought, the more he wasn’t sure what to do. Was Conrad capable enough to get the job, even without magic help? He did have a sort of grit about him, that Christopher thought he would have picked out anyway had the spells not first caught his attention. Conrad was sharp. He had an eye for detail, and had noticed things that Christopher didn’t think anyone else would have, particular children that age. 

Yes, now that he considered it, he became convinced that Conrad would do fine. Stallery would have no choice but to take them both, and then Christopher could search for Millie and protect Conrad at the same time. He didn’t have to compromise or endanger anyone.

That feeling heightened when one of the other boys made a remark that got Conrad to snicker. Conrad’s boyish smile made Christopher swallow hard. Yes, yes he definitely would protect this boy.

They approached a branch in the path. There was a spring in Christopher’s step as he picked up the pace to lead the group once again. “This way troops,” he said cheerfully.


End file.
